#and more ''flandre is poking her head out of her room to see what all the fuss is about''

[waffliesinyoface]

honestly the funniest bit of new touhou lore is how "Remilia keeps Flandre locked in the basement :(" got completely overturned by Cheating Detective Satori, when Flandre turns directly to the camera and goes "i can leave at any time, duh? but why would I?? sakuya brings me food whenever I want and all my shit is down here???"

its not a jail cell its a fucking gamer basement.

[514ko]

Birthday!! - Flandre Day 2023

A quick Touhou fluff fic to celebrate July 4, or Flandre Day!! Figured in lieu of a blog post today, I'd try throwing it up on here?

Summary: Remilia tries to throw Flandre a surprise birthday party, but it seems things don't go quite according to plan. But for Flandre, maybe it's better that way...?

TW: Depictions of social anxiety. Mild hurt/comfort.

          The forward halls of the Scarlet Devil Mansion were quiet, still.  Acres and acres of ornate beige wallpaper and short-cut burgundy shag, stretching on for what felt like kilometers.  And tonight, Flandre Scarlet wandered them alone.  Eyes downturned, shoulders slumped, her jangly rainbow wings drooping so their tips dragged lines in the carpet.

          She’d started from the forward kitchen.  It was mid-evening, so Flandre had just woken up.  Instead of waiting for Sakuya to bring down her breakfast, Flandre emerged from her basement a little early, thinking she’d just find a fairy maid to bully into making her something to eat, you know—but tonight, the kitchen was silent.

          Usually, the kitchen hummed with life—fairies flitting to and fro, each carrying pots of various foodstuffs, all above a steady clamor of panicked, childish voices amid the ever-present smell of burning.  So the life of a fairy maid goes.

          Flandre liked being alone, in fact she preferred it, but this...  This just felt weird.

          So she poked her head out into the hallway.  No one there.  The grand foyer—a couple playing fairy maids, who went white as sheets and scattered before Flandre could catch one and ask what was going on.  Flandre checked the library, next—only a couple books, flapping away like birds.  Sakuya’s quarters—silent, still, the bedsheets still neatly made from the morning.  Remilia’s study—darkened, nothing, no one.

          Each place she checked, and each dim, silent room she encountered, the lower her jangly wings drooped, and the tighter the knot in the pit of her stomach became.

          Her head abuzz with her own thoughts, Flandre wandered the halls all alone—until she heard something.  A whisper of a voice, heard muffled through walls.

          She quickly ran towards the voice, hearing it louder and louder until she came upon a particular door—an artificial light was on within, and if Flandre pressed her face against it she thought she could hear her sister’s voice, all haughty and proud, as if making a speech.

          —normally, Flandre hated that stupid accent Remi did, but right now it was so welcome her little heart could burst, and so she opened the door to the room and poked her head inside—

          The room was one of the forward sitting/dining rooms in the mansion, and also one of the largest and most ornate.  A dining table lay off to one side, all beautifully set.  Big bay windows ran along one side, covered in blackout sheets; the room was furnished with all the finest the Scarlet Devil Mansion had.

          And it seemed like, tonight, half the Mansion was there. 

          They all sat in the sitting room portion of the room, which conveniently was closest to the door—at one end of a coffee table, Patchouli sat in an armchair, with Koakuma hanging off the back, attentive.  Sakuya sat together with Meiling on a wide, scarlet couch trimmed in gold—poor Meiling looked droopy herself, leaning on Sakuya’s shoulder and half-asleep by now.  Behind them, several of the wiser, more trusted fairy maids flitted about, decorating the room in birthday trim; streamers hung from the coffers, multi-colored balloons were affixed to the antique furniture, and a massive banner, dyed in all the colors of the rainbow, was hung up to stretch over the whole room: HAPPY 500th BIRTHDAY, FLANDRE!!

          All while Remilia, deep in the throes of her own speech, was none the wiser.  Because Remilia’s back was turned to the door.

          All of this meant that Flandre got to see the exact moment they all noticed she was there—that is, except for Remilia.  The exact moment, measured in sharpening gazes and widening eyes and then nervous smiles.  And at that, Flandre froze, clutching the door hard enough to leave nail marks in the wood.

          “—and then Sakuya will go downstairs and fetch her, and once she brings her up we’ll all yell in unison, alright?  Unison, I want unison—what?!” Remilia said, her voice edged with the annoyance of her shattered rhythm.  “What is wrong with you all, you look like you’ve seen a ghost or something—"

          “Umm, my Mistress…” Sakuya said, speaking no further after that.  Remilia obviously took a second to get it, at which point Sakuya simply cleared her throat, and gave a sharp nod.

          Remilia tensed, taking a second to process Sakuya’s tip-off—and then she whirled around all afluster, wings shuddering and face all red, letting loose a string of incoherent noises.  Ordinarily, Flandre would’ve thought it pretty funny.  And it was pretty funny, but for the dozen pairs of eyes now all upon her, paralyzing her in the doorway like Medusa’s glare.

          Remilia, ever an expert in navigating (or perhaps barreling through) awkwardness, cleared her throat and threw up her arms.  “Okay, forget it!” she hissed, waving to everybody else.  “Just do it; do it now!”

          And the room erupted in cheers of happy birthday to Flandre.  What they lacked in coordination, they more than made up for in spirit—the half-dozen fairy maids all gave the best cheers, Patchouli raised her teacup to the cause, Meiling gave a little clap, and even Sakuya really put her all into it.

          And Flandre just gave a single, terrified squeak, and shut the door again, her heart pounding in her ears.  A few moments later, Remilia opened the door, blocking the view into the sitting room with her body, so all Flandre needed to focus on was her.

          “Oh, thank goodness you’re still here…” Remilia said, giving an awkward laugh.  “That didn’t go quite as planned…  Though, now I’m not sure the original plan was a great idea either…?”

          “R-Remi?  It was…was a surprise party?  F-for what?”

          “Did you think I’d forget my little sister’s 500th birthday?” Remilia said.  “Your first one in Gensokyo, too!”

          “B-but w-why?  S-s-so many people, like how am I supposed to act, I’m not—?”

          “Flandre,” Remilia said, giving a smile as warm as Flandre had ever seen.  “Tonight, you don’t have to be anything.  You don’t even have to talk, if you don’t want to!  We all just want to celebrate you!”

          “But…  But I can’t, I’m not—” Flandre whispered, before her fake protests died on her tongue, her heart flooding with liquid warmth.  “I’m not used to this…” she muttered.

          “That’s okay, Flan,” Remilia said, outstretching her hand.  “It’ll all be okay.”

—

          Soon enough, Flandre was sat at the head of the dining room table, stuffing her face with all the food her little heart desired.  Juicy steak just as she liked, a wonderfully savory beef stew, crisp roast duck, fried potatoes—even some vegetable dishes, which she promptly ignored.  Why eat vegetables when you have steak and stew in front of you?  Patchy seemed to like them, though.

          The dinner was followed by a strawberry shortcake bigger than her whole head, homemade by Sakuya and so light and sweet and delicious she squeaked happily with each forkful, her jangly wings flapping in delight.  There was, of course, flan as well—of which she had two or three of.

          And even though she didn’t talk for much of it (since Remi had said she didn’t need to), and most of the conversation topics weren’t really things she understood (or cared about), she did chime in a few times—and she was welcomed and included by all.

And it made her feel so happy, so warm.

          By the time the cake had been put away, and the cuisine had turned to spiced wine and speculoos shortbread, she was happily chatting away with Patchy about a magical something or another when Remilia called everyone to attention.

          “Right, everyone!  It’s been such a lovely party, but I propose we now present dear Flandre with all our handsels~”

          Flandre just gave Remilia a blank look, as did everyone around the table.

          “…so you want to give her presents now?” Patchouli said, even more deadpan than usual.

          “Presents?!”  Flandre leapt up, eyes aglow, wings flapping in the air.

          “Y-yes!  What she said!” Remilia said, clearing her throat.  Without missing a beat, she glanced around the room—evidently Sakuya wanted to go first.  She dutifully produced a box, and passed it to Remilia, who shoved the impeccably wrapped red-and-green box into Flandre’s hands.  “Here, here, open this!”

           Flandre stared at it for a moment, bewildered, before glancing around at all the expectant faces around her.  She opened it as gingerly as a cat investigating a new room—until she got down to the paper inside, before long extracting a particularly ornate porcelain teacup set.  A set.  For two.

          “Uh…” Flandre muttered, her eyes flickering from the two teacups, then to Sakuya’s face, then to Remi’s then back to the cups.  “W-well, they’re really pretty…  Though I’m not sure if I need, you know, two—”

          “Now, I thought you’d say that, young Mistress—but think about this!” Sakuya said, raising a finger.  “Now that we’re in Gensokyo, you might wish to have a friend over for tea, sometime!  And when that time comes, there you are—a set of matching teacups.”

          Flandre forced a smile, putting the teacups back in the box before she thought too much about the prospect of having friends.  But she said a polite ‘thank you’ anyway, because they really were lovely teacups.

          “Don’t worry, Flan—she doesn’t look it, but she always gives sucky gifts,” Remilia said, waving haughtily in Sakyua’s general direction, giving her wings a declarative twitch.  “Open Meiling’s next!” Remilia chirped, moving on swiftly.

          Sakuya only gave an exasperated sigh, and then a slight, knowing smile.

          Meiling, who up to this point seemed a little spaced out—it was much past her bedtime already, and the party was still going—checked right back in (after a nudge in the ribs from Sakuya, of course).  Her present came in a little box too; smaller and a little stiffer than Sakuya’s—a jewelry box.

          “M-Meiling…?” Flandre blurted out, giving her wings a jangly flap.  “You got me something too?”

          Meiling chuckled, scratching the back of her head.  “Well, yeah, Mistress!  I figured you liked rainbows because of, y’know, your wings—a-and I like ‘em too!  So I hope you, um…like ‘em!”

          And as Flandre slit the tape with her nail, and drew out what was inside—her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree.  Meiling’s gift was a pair of earrings.  They looked like little tree branches affixed with multicolored crystals, made to mimic Flandre’s wings—they sparkled in the lamplight with all the colors of the rainbow.

          “Waah!  They’re so pretty!” Flandre said, giving a bright smile and putting them on, putting a finger behind them and raising her wings up as close to her head as she could, showing them off to the whole of the table.

          “How beautiful, Mistress…” Sakuya said, giving a little half-bow from across the table.  She then seemed to glance at Meiling and give her a wink, to which Meiling gave a nervous laugh and scratched the back of her head.

          “Yes, truly a wonderful gift, Meiling~” Remi said, giving a pleased little huff.  “And now, without further ado—”

          Patchouli cleared her throat.

          “R-right, um—  I believe Patchy, as well, had a gift for you, Flandre…”

          Flandre, who had turned off to the side of the table to show off even to the fairy maids, let out a squeak of surprise, snapping back to Patchouli.

          “Y-you too?  I thought you disliked me, though?”

          All of a sudden, all eyes shifted to stare at Patchouli, who was left shifting uncomfortably in her seat.  “Well, I never disliked you…  I-it was all just a misunderstanding,” she muttered, motioning to Koakuma.  “But nevertheless, I think it best to apologize properly to you, and this is the best way I know how…”

          Koakuma smiled, and with a casual wave of her hand, she opened a pocket dimension in mid-air, producing a massive book from it before presenting it to Flandre.  It really was a massive tome; it was the size of Flandre’s head and as thick as her arm, bound in supple greenish leather, a complicated sigil carved into the cover.  Greenish smoke dribbled from under the cover and into Flandre’s lap, like that of dry ice.

          “It’s a grimoire,” Patchouli said.  “A grimoire storybook.  It’s a story in which you get to control the outcome.  I…hope it can give you some inspiration.”

          Immediately, Flandre’s flappy-winged joy reignited.  She stared down at the book in her hands, occasionally glancing up to Patchy with an expression as if to say: ‘are you sure I can have this?’, running her fingers over the book’s leather.

          Patchouli, for her part, wore as great a smile as she seemed capable of producing.  “Happy birthday, Flandre.”

          Flandre giggled, flipping open the book in her lap—before getting hit in the face with a puff of green smoke.  She coughed, and snapped the book shut, as all eyes in the room again turned to Patchouli, glaring this time.

          “Aah…  M-must still be offgassing still, uhm…” Patchouli said nervously, compelled to under the weight of Remilia’s patented Scarlet stink-eye.  “Just wait until later, okay, Flandre?  And, uhm, open it in a ventilated place.”

          Flandre just started cackling, even more excited than before.  “It’s okay, it’s okay!  That’s just how it is when magic is this stupidly powerful, and, and!  Patchouli, the enchantments on this are sooo awesome—did you do this yourself?!” Flandre blurted out, talking a mile-a-minute.

          “Uhm, well, yes?  Yes, I did…”

          “Thank you, thank you!  This is super cool!” Flandre chirped, hugging the book to her chest, literally bouncing in thanks.  Patchouli looked away, seeming genuinely embarrassed now…

          “Okay, okay, that’s all very nice and all,” Remi chimed in then, donning one of her posh accents and calling everyone back to attention.  “Now that you’ve all given my sister your plebian gifts, step aside and allow me to show you what a true monarch gives as tribute—"

          And then Remi fell abruptly silent for an uncomfortable few seconds, as she realized she’d forgotten to tell any of the servants where it was—

           She coughed, and quickly scurried across the room to fetch it.

          It wasn’t even wrapped yet, so Flandre could kind of make out what it was—a giant, fuzzy brown stuffed animal half the size of her.  And even though she could see it in Remilia’s arms (the whole room could see it, for goodness sakes’), she had no clue what kind of animal it was.

          “Here, Flandre,” Remilia said, plopping the creature in Flandre’s arms—it was a strange looking one, long and brown and fuzzy, with beady eyes and a large duckbill.  She had to kick her chair away from the table to hold it; it was half the size of her!

          Flandre stared into its beady eyes, eyebrows furrowed.  “What…kind of animal is this supposed to be?

          “This, my dear Flan, is the spitting image of one of the strangest animals ever to grace the Outside,” Remilia said, chuckling.  “The body of a rodent, the tail of a beaver, yet the bill of a duck—one of nature’s oddest specimens.”

          “…okaaaaay?”

          “Ah, but that’s not all of it, my dear Flan…” Remilia said, crossing her arms in preparation (she had been waiting her whole life for this).  “This, this…platypus, as the humans call it, is also one of the most terrifying and powerful creatures known to them.”

          Instantly, Flandre’s eyes lit up.

          “Picture, dear Flan—an animal that lives in every river in the mythical land of Australia!  Carnivorous, massive, man-eaters!  Able to electrocute its prey through their beaks, to poison a grown man with a single swipe of its claws, to swallow them whole like a snake—why, Flandre, this platypus is a monster!”

          Flandre stared for a moment at this duck-billed plush monstrosity in her arms, peering into its terrifying visage—and she squealed in joy, hugging him tight in jangly wing-flapping excitement.

          Remilia seemed satisfied by this development, smirking and nodding, as if all went perfectly to plan.

          “Well, I’m glad you like him!”

          “I love him!  I didn’t know he was this cool!” Flandre laughed, raising him above her head with a wide smile.  “And he’s so cute, too…  We’re totally gonna take over the world now!”

          Remilia seemed rather self-satisfied; perhaps a bit too much.  “Well, of course, any good sidekick needs a name…  And of course, I’m always here to help you name him, if you wish!  Something like Wil—"

          “Nnnnnope!” Flandre chirped.  Snickers could already be heard from some of the less stone-faced of those present.  “Imma name him something way more fitting, something cool and…super evil, like…  Count Orthros von Strauss XIV, Emperor of the Platypi and God of Ultimate Hyperdeath—I love him!”

          “…wh-what?” Remi said, made a face that could only be described as a crash back to reality.  “S-surely you could come up with a more…  A more fitting name…”

          “What, like Wilbur?” Patchouli said, deadpan, taking a sip of her tea.

          The whole room burst into laughter.  Meiling, Koakuma, Patchy with a light chuckle, all the fairy maids (though they always were a little insubordinate anyway)—even Sakuya sat there grinning as Remilia turned beet-red, left flustered and muttering flappy protests as the room erupted in praise for Flandre’s naming ability, which was quickly voted (near-unanimously) to be categorically better than her sister’s.

          And for the rest of that wonderful birthday night, full of all the meats and sweets she could stuff her little face full of, Flandre Scarlet hugged Orthros von Strauss the platypus tight, and she felt loved.  Loved, and happy, and warm—a special kind of warmth that she’d never, ever quite felt before, and one she’d never, ever forget.